


They Say The Nile Used to Run from East to West

by Addison R (beyond_belief)



Category: Bourne (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-19
Updated: 2008-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Addison%20R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Nicky, trying to make sense of things (before Identity begins).</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Say The Nile Used to Run from East to West

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sienamystic

 

 

He's not the same.

Her shoes slide a little on the floor underneath the desk, her unconscious movement towards standing stifled by slick tile and heels. His eyes flick over her but nothing seems to register on his face. "Jason Bourne," he says, his voice distant.

"Right," Nicky murmurs. She finds his file in the drawer. Retrieves a blank checklist from the corner of her desk. But she fumbles with the pen, and his eyes dart to her hands, just briefly.

She stopped wearing the ring months ago, but right now she can feel it as if it's still there. She wonders what he did with it, since she knows the package was delivered; he'd signed for it. And now he's looking at her like he's never seen her before in his life.

That, she has to admit, is entirely possible.

"Headaches?" she asks, glad when her voice doesn't shake.

"Yes."

She checks the box. "Nausea?"

"Yes."

She checks the box. "Nightmares?"

"No."

"No?" she asks, before she can stop herself.

David - Jason - doesn't blink. "No."

She checks the box.

*

He's gone three minutes later. She'd given him painkillers for the headaches and he'd left without a word. Nicky puts her head down on the desk and breathes. She doesn't cry. Pioze will be here in two minutes and she needs to look as though nothing has happened.

Because nothing _has_ happened. This new man, this Jason Bourne, was not the man she'd been going to marry before. Before David came to her and said he'd been offered a classified position with INSCOM and that he was going to take it. That he'd signed on for two years, and that when it was over, he would come back to her. _"It's only two years, Nicky. We can wait two years. I need to do this."_

She figured she could wait two years, that she'd be waiting for him to come home from one assignment after the other for the rest of her life, no matter if he did this or not. It was only after he'd been gone six months that she'd been reassigned to Treadstone and found his file. At least she'd known he would be one of hers before she had to see him face-to-face.

"Nicky," Pioze says, and she blinks. "You look tired. Would you like my coffee?"

"No, thanks," she says with a wave. Most of them look through her like she's not even there, but Pioze is at least slightly personable when he wants to be. She wonders what he did before all this. "Sorry. I'm fine. We're here for you, besides."

"I'm well. Awful headaches, though."

Nicky nods and reaches for another questionnaire.

*

It's dark in the club, the flashing lights more for effect than illumination. She's drunk on martinis and the freedom of her one night off in a month. Madeline and Sophie are negotiating with the DJ in the corner. The stem of the glass is cool in her hand as they wind their way back to her and she opens her mouth to shout at their music choices, but suddenly there's an arm around her waist and someone is spinning her around. "David," she gasps.

"Quiet," is his reply. She leaves her glass behind on the bar as he pulls her through the crowd to a less noisy spot, somehow even darker. Nicky finds herself unable to speak, so she just stares into his face. There's a cut next to his eye and she reaches out to touch it.

He doesn't flinch. "I didn't know," he says.

"I know," because what else can she say? She knows now what Treadstone does.

"They changed me."

She nods, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. "I miss you," she whispers.

"This is a bad idea," he says, but he lets her put her arms around his neck, his hands settling on her hips. "You need to be strong." It's murmured against her cheek. His voice is different, too. She wants to scream against the unforgivable things that have been done to them. She doesn't. She just turns her head and meets his mouth with hers.

It's not the same. It's barely even close.

*

Nicky dreams about running, dressed in sweats and cross-trainers. She has this dream at least once a week, of pounding the pavement for hours straight, sweat streaming into her eyes. Most nights, there's no one following her. She's running to run, not to escape.

Tonight, she wakes up gasping, twisted in her sheets, struggling with the imaginary attacker who had overtaken her. Finally she sits up, sucking in huge breaths, only to scramble backwards to the headboard and grab the gun that's tucked there. But it's just Jason sitting silently in the corner and she drops the gun to the mattress. "Why are you here?" she manages to ask. "I thought we agreed to pretend we didn't know each other until this was over."

"You're not going to want me when this is over," he answers.

It's only been eight months of operations, and the shadows under his eyes are painful. Nicky meets his gaze, knowing her look is fierce. "Then I'll take what I can get right now."

"Jesus, Nicky-"

"David, I still love you, no matter what they've done."

He unfolds himself from the chair and climbs onto the bed. She slides her arms around him. "I still love you," she says again.

"You'll get yourself killed," he replies, directly into her ear. His breath is warm. Nicky presses her face to his neck and inhales.

*

Each time, he comes back a little more distant. She can't find fault in that.

"I know it has to be like this," she says, when Jason looks at her with something like an apology in his eyes, as they sit in a cafe close to the university. She curls her hands around her latte cup.

He looks away again. "I need a new passport."

"Just get me the details you want." She sits up a little straighter, glances idly around the room. Sometimes it helps to pretend she doesn't know him at all.

Jason writes everything on a napkin. "Burn it when you're done."

"I know, Jason," she replies, sliding it into her pocket. His foot bumps hers underneath the table and she sighs. "What happened to me?" she asks.

His coffee cup rattles a little against the table. "Same thing that happens to all of us."

 _Treadstone_ , is what he doesn't say. _Treadstone is what happened to all of us._

*

There's weeks at a time where she doesn't see him, but it's not unusual. Planning and executing an operation often takes more than a month, and her agents aren't required to check in when they're establishing cover.

She gets better at not letting it hurt so much. She's glad on the days she gets to talk to Danny and not Conklin himself; she's certain that Conklin knows she and David were engaged and sometimes she thinks he takes a perverse satisfaction in the fact that they have to work together and not acknowledge what they were. And so she continues to take satisfaction in hiding their increasingly infrequent meetings from Conklin, from Treadstone.

But it's hard to keep her voice steady when Danny calls. "Has Bourne checked in with you?"

"No." She checks the journal, even though she knows. "Two weeks ago Wednesday, before he left for the boat."

"Wombosi's on the news claiming we tried to kill him."

Nicky's world tilts right, then left, and she has to press a hand against her eyes. "And you don't know where Bourne is."

"He hasn't checked in."

"I'll start protocol on Kane."

*

This time, she can see in his eyes that he doesn't remember. It's the first time she's ever truly afraid of him.

After that, he disappears completely.

*

She knows about Marie, but never saw him with her. But she saw the pain on his face, heard the desperation in his voice when he said Marie was dead. It was like losing him all over again.

And even if she doesn't know this Jason Bourne, she does know who he'd been. And she knows that even if he doesn't recognize her now, he would still feel guilty for exactly that. And Nicky still loves him enough to want to save him that guilt, despite the blood on his hands.

She's not afraid of that blood. Maybe he'll remember eventually. She can wait.

 


End file.
